The last few days were pretty rough. Most of them went something like this:

Wake up early, after not enough sleep. Galia runs errands or squeezes in a business meeting while Mike packs up stuff. Cobble together something resembling a meal from the fridge using whatever ingredients don't require a microwave, toaster oven, or other portable appliance because we've given all of them away. Galia lists some more stuff for free on craigslist, Mike tapes together boxes and carries full bins to the walk-in closet to make it feel like we're making progress. We hang out with a close friend, force them to take some of our possessions which they amazingly keep doing with a smile (again, great friends!), try not to cry while saying goodbye and promising each other we'll text all the time even for no reason. Stay up packing until way past our bedtime. Sleep on the floor. Repeat.

We had given away all our lamps, so the last few days, Mike plugged a light bulb directly into a power strip and we moved it from room to room as we worked. Wednesday morning, the movers came to pick up everything we were taking to storage. All that was left over was the stuff we're taking with us, and the junk. The place finally felt empty. And it finally felt like something was happening.

We were struck and confused by how strange it DIDN'T feel. It felt like we had a project, sure. And sure, we knew in our brains that we were giving up this apartment we love. But I think it's a life change so big that you just can't process it in advance. It didn't feel real. Still doesn't feel real. Might be a while until it does.

On Thursday, we had our apartment inspection, picked up the RV, and packed up the rest of our stuff. Before we left the apartment for the last time, we sat on the floor and hugged and looked at the view we'd probably see many times more but never from that exact spot... never again from that apartment... and I was surprised at my tears.

There are few moments in life that you can look at and know with such certainty that this moment, right here, is a moment that divides my life. It is the moment where the last chapter ends, and the new one begins, and everything will be different now. And to purposely give up a known good for the unknown -- even an unknown good -- is scary. I know the next chapter will also be amazing, but it's such an unknown that I can hardly even think about it. In any case, I was overwhelmed by how many emotions you can carry at the same time: grief, sadness, nostalgia, but also excitement, joy, curiosity. The discomfort of jumping into the unknown with the comfort of doing it with your best friend. The discomfort of not having a home with the comfort of knowing that your home is wherever you are. And the gratitude about having a partner who's up for this mad adventure, and pride that we're living our lives in a way that when we look back, we'll feel like we've really truly lived it.

That night, we went to an RV park about an hour south of San Francisco. Once we got there, my grief was out of my system, but then it was Mike's turn to be sad, and it finally hit him. It's not ours anymore! We don't live in San Francisco! We don't live where so many of our chosen-family lives, and we'll really, really miss them. We'll miss birthdays, and weddings, and babies being born. And sitting on the couch playing Drawful and eating Indian pizza. Goodbye, and hello to the next chapter.

The next morning, I set up my workstation for the first time while he was out running the final errands. I got a portable external monitor, so with the help of a portable laptop table, I was able to basically have my full two-monitor setup with extra keyboard and mouse and wifi and it was no different from working at the office or anywhere else. Except now I'm sitting on a comfy couch and the coffee refills are even closer.

We drove to Santa Barbara that night, with an obligatory stop at the Madonna Inn to check out the waterfall bathroom. We got amazing Mexican food (shout out to my brother, Eyal, for the recommendation) at Super-Rica, drove around SB a little bit, and passed out early.

And now it's Day Two.

It still doesn't feel real. We travel so much that so far it just feels like we're on a normal trip, booking it to Oceanside to visit my parents, and we'll still just go back in a few days and get back to work and life and routine. So I wonder if it'll just feel like that all the time, but for a year.

In any case, we're excited, and exhilarated, and happy, and bewildered. And can't wait to see how the next chapter unfolds.

Next stop: Oceanside, CA, to stay with my parents for a month. Onward!